Halo: Trial By Fire
by Drawlords
Summary: For 180 years, humanity has spread across the stars, colonising with fervent abandon, but now, stretched thin by their own hubris, civil war is erupting across the outer-colonies of the United Earth Government. Threatening to destroy civilisation in one fell swoop, humanity must endure. This is a disaster of their own doing, and shall act as their Trial by Fire. AU, OC.
1. PRIORITY TRANSMISSIONS

Prioritisation: QUANTUM-LOCK

Classification: META-SOL

To: Codename: MATILDA

From: Codename: HAGGIS

Intermediary: EMPIRICAL

Date: 2492.6.28

Subject: Operation: NIMBUS

Artifacts recovered from _[REDACTED]_ have cooperated as _[REDACTED] _said they would. The _[REDACTED]_ discovered by Codename: CRISIS is not responding to previously used methods. Recommend sending CRISIS' discoveries to Codename: AGATE for more in-depth study. Decryption of _[REDACTED] _is still moving slowly. No further progress has been made.

Prioritisation: QUANTUM-ENTAGLEMENT

Classification: OMEGA-SOL

To: Codename: GREAT LORD

From: Codename: SLENDER

Intermediary: TROJAN HORSE

Date: 2492.9.17

Subject: Operation: OORT CLOUD (COALS)

Distrust has expanded across capital. Codename: REP is garnering a larger following. _[REDACTED] _and _[REDACTED] _have attempted appeals to Codename: CHANCELLOR. Terminate REP?

Prioritisation: QUANTUM-ENTAGLEMENT

Classification: OMEGA-SOL

To: Codename: SLENDER

From: Codename: GREAT LORD

Intermediary: TROJAN HORSE

Date: 2492.9.18

Subject: Operation: OORT CLOUD (COALS)

Negative. Codename: MATILDA requires status-quo to remain until theorised escalations by _[REDACTED] _have occurred. Continue current operations.

Prioritisation: QUANTUM-ENTAGLEMENT

Classification: OMEGA-SOL

To: Codename: GREAT LORD

From: Codename: SLENDER

Intermediary: TROJAN HORSE

Date: 2492.10.21

Subject: Operation: OORT CLOUD (COALS)

Have great reason to believe Codename: REP is preparing for OMEGA REFORMATION. Discovered plans of eliminating UNSC personnel and colonial representatives. Highly recommend immediate termination. REP is moving forward faster than anticipated, suspect OMEGA REFORMATION in less than 60 days.

Prioritisation: QUANTUM-ENTAGLEMENT

Classification: OMEGA-SOL

To: Codename: SLENDER

From: Codename: GREAT LORD

Intermediary: TROJAN HORSE

Date: 2492.10.22

Subject: Operation OORT CLOUD (COALS)

Negative. Codename: REP's recent developments have earned significant attention. Codename: MATILDA wants REP alive. Reason to believe REP is coordinating OMEGA REFORMATION on Codenames: PETTY, EXUBERANCE and ADRIATIC. UNSC frigates _Stonehenge _and _Grand Canyon _are being sent for pick-up and clean-up. New orders: sabotage space-capable vessels and long-range communications. Stay low to the ground until _Stonehenge's _and _Grand Canyon's_ arrival.

Prioritisation: QUANTUM-ENTAGLEMENT

Classification: OMEGA-SOL

To: Codename: GREAT LORD

From: Codename: SLENDER

Intermediary: TROJAN HORSE

Date: 2492.10.29

Subject: Operation: OORT CLOUD (COALS)

ALIAS HAS BEEN DISPOSSESSED. OMEGA REFORMATION COMMENCED.

Sabotage of space-capable vessels and long-range interstellar communications successful. Detainment of Codename: REP unsuccessful. Require immediate evac.

Prioritisation: QUANTUM-ENTAGLEMENT

Classification: OMEGA-SOL

To: Codename: SLENDER

From: TROJAN HORSE

Intermediary: HAWKING

Date: 2492.11.1

Subject: Operation: OORT CLOUD (Evacuation)

_Stonehenge _and _Grand Canyon_ will arrive in system at 2492.11.1 1143. Evac will land at 2492.11.2 0400, at coordinates 34oS 9' 42.545", 18oE 24' 47.109".


	2. Nearly According to Plan

**Ayers, Far Isle – 2492.11.2 0329**

_CRACK._

The recoil from Codename: SLENDER's high-powered SRS99-AM gauss rifle was absorbed by both the systems inside his brand new Mk. II Proserpine power armour and his variety of genetic augmentations that all ONI field agents were administered. His shot had pierced through the dark of Far Isle's cold, early morning and the helmeted head of one of the close to 700 000 insurrectionists on the isolated outer-colony, currently monitoring a checkpoint station. Ayers, Far Isle's capital had, by far, the largest concentration of rebels on the entire planet.

As SLENDER looked away from the now motionless body of the Insurrectionist manning the checkpoint proper, once framed a bright red by his armour's VISR system, he moved his scope towards the second target in the gunner seat of a long obsolete Warthog, blocking a small street just on the outskirts of the city. The armoured figure was looking around frantically with the turret, searching for whoever had brutally ended the life of his comrade. However, he would be unsuccessful in his endeavour as a second round founds its way through his cranium, splattering blood over the Warthog's back bumper like a careless artist throwing paint over a canvas.

At over five kilometres away, SLENDER, thanks to his innate skill and training in combination with the photo-reflective panels of his armour meant that the only way the inexperienced insurrectionists could see him was if he allowed them.

"Malcolm! Edward and Peter just got shot! Fucking hell, where are you guys?"

That was the voice of the last target at the checkpoint, crackling through both his own radio and SLENDER's armour, his old MA2B visibly shaking in his hands as he mimicked the recently deceased. SLENDER put the reticule just above the visor of the bumbling young man and pulled the trigger. The ONI agent didn't have to wait long to see a sizeable chunk of his target's head fly off in a spectacular fashion.

With the three insurrectionists at the checkpoint dead, SLENDER shot up from his spot and started moving again. When his cover as a Far Isle colonist deeply involved in the insurrection movement on the planet was somehow blown the same day Harry Rajh overthrew the colony's planetary government, it nearly turned into the first lynching in over five hundred and fifty years. Luckily, he managed to evade the swarming mass of secessionist maniacs and got out of sight, and now, he was making his way out of Ayers to get picked up by the sister ships _Stonehenge _and _Grand Canyon_.

As SLENDER moved from the top of the small building he was residing on onto the ground, he started running silently, being aided immensely by his own suit of armour. As he fell into autopilot traversing the outer sections of the capital, he began thinking how everything on the colony went to hell.

His regular messaging with his superior, Codename: GREAT LORD, director of Operation: OORT CLOUD, had made sure that the higher echelons of ONI had up to date information on the situation on Far Isle, and, along with a net of other agents on a number of outer-colonies all under GREAT LORD's jurisdiction, ensured that those colonies suspected of insurrectionist activities were under constant surveillance.

When he received his second set of orders, he was frustrated. Harry Rajh posed a very real threat to the stability of human government and civilisation if put in a position of power. He'd exhibited serious psychopathic behaviour and a high, even prodigal intelligence level. ONI, at the behest of one of the powerful representatives of Gaia, had leisurely been monitoring the man ever since he had journeyed to Far Isle eighteen months ago, after being released from the Prison of New Alexandria on Reach; but when general displeasure with the UEG across many of the outer-colonies multiplied on Far Isle seemingly without warning, ONI increased surveillance operations and discovered that Rajh was masterminding the entire upheaval.

That discovery had led to the creation of Operation: OORT CLOUD, and with the express permission and a blank cheque from CINCONI, it spearheaded a war of subterfuge against insurrection movements across UEG space. However, ONI's dangerous underestimation of Rajh had allowed the violent insurrection on Far Isle to occur in the first place. If it wasn't for SLENDER's superior to order him to cut the insurrectionists' ability to both leave the planet and utilise long-range communications, Rajh's plan for open rebellion would have most likely spread to other outer-colonies.

In the here and now, SLENDER's plan was to draw enough insurrectionist forces from the least defended path out of Ayers so he could get out of the city without trouble. Vaulting through the open window of a cheap, portable building and out the other end in just a few seconds, SLENDER headed into an open alley, the wind biting at his armour as he ran as quietly as he could through his hopefully final, tense night on Far Isle.

After about two more minutes in a constant run, the ONI operative found himself perilously close to the checkpoint he had decided to leave Ayers through. As SLENDER waited, near still behind the corner of a building, his VISR automatically labelled eight out of the usual fifteen targets, with one of them in a warthog, sitting next to the turret, lazily swinging his legs on the machine that was blocking the small gap that lead out of the city. Some held themselves in a lackadaisical manner, while others stood vigilant and strong. He could make an educated guess that the ones that seemed to be taking themselves seriously realised that an ONI agent in their midst was actually something to be concerned about, and were on the lookout more so than they would have usually been.

As SLENDER moved inwards, keeping his back firmly planted on the surprisingly dilapidated wall, he checked his own inventory. His SRS99-AM and gauss M6D had more than enough clips to spare, and he quickly reattached the suppressor to his magnum silently after he had taken it off when he was leading the colony on a wild goose chase, he still had three out of his five C12 blocks, as the first one he had used to blow the colony's long-range communications network sky-high, and the second was used to wipe out a good chunk of insurrectionists to lead them off his trail, and the Proserpine armour itself had only taken cosmetic injuries to its sleek, onyx look, surviving the shots of the antiquated rifles a few of the insurrectionists managed to use.

Removing his suppressed M6D from its magnetic clamps on his right thigh, SLENDER activated the photo-reflective panels on his armour and crept, crouched and slowly moving forward past the wall he was stationed behind and moved upwards towards the checkpoint, remaining on their right flank. Eventually, he crouched behind a totalled civilian car, pushed off to the left side of the road, adjacent to his way out.

Easily compromising the insurrectionists' communications, SLENDER listened in to the semi-constant chatter between the members of the group, with his VISR automatically highlighting the guards talking in white on both sides of the checkpoint, but when one of the guards mentioned something odd, he listened in, "Why… why do we need to needlessly hang out this far away from the rest of the city? I mean, all the hostages we have are locked up tight right at the centre."

The operative frowned beneath his helmet at the man's statement. He didn't realise just how far Rajh and a select few others had manipulated the colony. All the UNSC personnel were dead; SLENDER had participated in the private executions himself.

A British female, standing next to the German man answered his question with sizeable incredulity, "Are you daft? Why the fuck do you think Malcolm took seven people to go to the checkpoint further into the city? They're trying to catch that ONI bastard and lay him down, that's why, you bloody idiot."

The German responded with a simple and disheartened "Oh, right… yeah." SLENDER inwardly chuckled at the exchange.

"And besides," the woman continued, "would you rather be sitting around, doing absolutely nothing, or out here, and helping?"

German responded with a more invigorated, "Fine, fine!"

Moving from his spot of cover, SLENDER moved up, staying low, and moving slowly, his armour masking any sound he would have made as he came within ten metres of the checkpoint entrance, virtually next to one of the guards that wasn't taking part in conversation and leaning lethargically with his MA2B hanging at his side on the imposing five metre high wall that surrounded this entire section of the city, and was quickly being expanded across the rest of Ayers.

Holstering his magnum, SLENDER retrieved his combat knife, holding it in his hands with a natural skill as he stood up on the right of the careless checkpoint guard. With surgical precision, he stabbed the knife through the less-protected under suit that covered his target's neck, pulling it across the length of it, immediately transforming whatever sound the guard might have made to a bubbling gurgle that emanated from within the armour's helmet. As blood shot out of the corpse's neck, SLENDER grabbed the body before it could hit the ground and pulled it back to his cover behind the car. Laying the dead guard down softly, he peeked back over his cover in slight trepidation: everything was as it was.

The entire ordeal had happened in just a moment.

The night-vision that came with the VISR system allowed SLENDER to fully take note of the surrounding environment, interrupted only by the vibrant and clarifying red that outlined the insurrectionists, that unknowingly, and annoyingly, blocked his path to freedom. There were now six guards left: one on the warthog, three on the far side, and two on his side. He couldn't deal with them one by one, it was too open, and they were densely packed together. He couldn't sneak past them, the warthog blocked the exit well, and he couldn't just go over the wall, it was simply too tall for his near two metre height, and he couldn't jump over it from a building, as any building remotely close to it had been removed. He needed to create a distraction before the other insurrectionists returned from checking up on their dead friends.

Yet it seemed, to SLENDER, that lady luck had smiled upon him as the voice of a Canadian man, Malcolm, he presumed blasted onto the radio, "Élise, bring Walpert, Osiris and Xander, we have a problem."

"Got it." The slightly French and slightly Italian accent of the woman called Élise was quick and sharp.

Besides the complaining from one of the guards as the four started walking away from the checkpoint, there was silence beyond the usual chatter. SLENDER had been given an ample way out, and he wasn't willing to look a gift horse in the mouth. Moving from his cover behind the car once again, the nearly invisible operative found that both of the guards directly in front of him, and two other on the far side had gone with the second call. With only a single insurrectionist and the gunner between him and getting off of Far Isle, SLENDER had a plan.

Pulling his suppressed, yet still high-powered M6D from its magnetic clamps, SLENDER moved up, back along the same portion of wall he had killed a man just over a minute ago. As he inched closer and closer towards the towering bulk of the warthog, with his VISR perfectly outlining his targets, he aimed the pistol directly at the head of the leg-swinging insurrectionist on the warthog.

SLENDER pulled the trigger, the round instantaneously embedding into the skull of the man, the force of the shot pushing him onto the bed of the back of the warthog. Before the other guard could react to the noise of her comrade's death, SLENDER turned towards her, pulled the trigger once, heard a silent shot, and watched his target drop, and all the while, he remained completely silent, and virtually invisible to the world.

As the zealous red highlighting the corpses dissipated to nothing as SLENDER became the only living thing, he slithered his magnum back onto his right thigh and jumped over the now harmless warthog, landing outside the walls of Ayers. Checking the planet's local time, he realised he had less than ten minutes to make it to the evac point outside the city. The place the pelican was picking him up was landing twenty kilometres north-north-east of the isolating, city-wide wall, hidden in an outcropping surrounded by a severely rocky environment, blocking the view of the landing zone from the city.

For the first few kilometres outside Ayers, it was flat and dry; there were very little living things in the orange desert reminiscent of the Australian outback. SLENDER started running across it, making an iota of noise as he kicked up the dirt underneath his boots, coating his armoured soles with a fine orange finish. Running slightly slower than an Olympic sprinter, he set a waypoint at the exact coordinates he'd been given by Trojan, the blue marker slowly counting down as he continued to run, eventually coming upon the jutting rocks familiar to most of Far Isle.

Slowing down and disabling his photo reflective panelling, SLENDER began snaking meticulously between the rocks, staying low and watching his step as his waypoint grew ever closer to gifting him his freedom. He checked the time once again: 0355.

Speeding up as he jumped across a large swath of sharp rock that looked like the top of a demonic hedgehog, he contacted the _Grand Canyon _for the first time since leaving Ayers, "_Grand Canyon, _this is SLENDER, I'm currently thirteen kilometres from the evac point. Behind schedule, copy?"

"SLENDER, this is Tsar, message received. Pickup cannot land any later than 0405. Magnes is being prepared."

Magnes, SLENDER noted dimly, was UNSC code for a MAC strike against a planetary-based target: the second part of 'pick-up and clean-up'. Orbital bombardment of enemy targets was far less costly in terms of both money and manpower compared to attempting the apprehension and conviction of nearly three-quarter of a million people. The MAC strikes were used to wipe out the majority of enemy forces, and depending on the initial size of the enemy force, either small groups of ODST squads were sent to surgically remove the problem, or marine battalions backed by heavy armour to blitz the still dazed and confused target. In this case, the blitz was what was being used.

"Affirmative." SLENDER's Irish accent stayed mostly emotionless as he responded to _Grand Canyon's _shipboard A.I, which he imagined was currently commandeered by ONI.

As SLENDER continued to vault across the dangerous stone of Far Isle's untamed, dead wilderness, his waypoint read a tantalising '8km'.

_Not far now until I get off this rock. _

When SLENDER came across the outcropping that was housing his evac, it had already turned past the five minute mark, and the pelican was there, most likely impatiently waiting for his footfall on the metallic floor of the mechanical beast that was the drop ship. Before he left the relative safety of the rocks, he activated his panelling once again, putting it to full power as he began striding towards the pelican's expansive bay. He called it a precautionary measure.

The second SLENDER put his boot on the flexible lip of the pelican bay, a large _bang _charged through the thoroughly silent night and ripped through his left leg, brutally punishing the armour plating and mutilating the tendons and muscle of the leg inside of it, veritably pummelling out the other side while splintering and cracking the bone with explosive force.

Immediately reacting, SLENDER screamed in excruciating and white hot pain as he fell to the floor of the pelican, shouting to the pilot in a near incoherent fashion, "Close the bay doors! Now!"

The pilot didn't need to be told by SLENDER - as soon as the shot rang out, he activated the emergency override, temporarily allocating the drop ship's dumb A.I. to the back burner and manually closed the bay doors far faster than normal, putting extraneous pressure on the ship's mechanical systems as it groaned in frustration. Yet before they fully closed, another figure, clad in a full suit of Anhur power armour stepped in.

Flipping around, SLENDER, fuelled by adrenaline and pain killers administered by his Proserpine armour, with incredible speed removed his magnum from its magnetic clamp and began firing directly at the figure's centre mass, going for the kill.

The man that SLENDER assumed had shot him wasn't expecting such a quick reaction, even then, as soon as SLENDER began shooting, he charged the prone man, only being shot in the stomach once. Hitting the pistol out of his grip, he balled his right hand into a fist and slammed it down onto the visor of SLENDER's armour, creating a hairline crack.

_Augmented. _

As the man went in for another, hard punch, SLENDER grabbed his arm and twisted. Even in the armour, SLENDER'S superior Proserpine and augmentations overpowered the other man, and as he heard the sharp _crack _of the man's arm and an involuntary whimper of pain, he brought his one good leg up and slammed it into the stomach wound, pushing him forcefully back into the now closed bay doors of the pelican.

As the armour-clad man slowly stood up, clutching his stinging wound, the pilot of the pelican stepped out of the cockpit with a shotgun in hand, aimed directly at the head of SLENDER's attacker.

"Grab your pistol." The pilot's voice was young, yet tense, for good reason.

Doing as the pilot said, the seriously injured SLENDER grabbed his pistol and stood up. His armour had systems in place that administered pain killers and temporary field medication to any wounds the wearer suffered, and now, he could put weight on his mutilated left leg without passing out from the sheer pain of it all.

With the weaponry of the fully armoured ONI personnel trained on the head of their intruder, he didn't dare make a move. All three were trapped in the relatively small confines of the pelican's drop bay. If he tried anything, his head would cease to exist in the span of a single second.

"Who are you?" SLENDER's voice was strained, but tried his best to make it keep its edge.

"Someone who ONI's a fan of, to say the least." SLENDER knew who it was immediately. The Indian accent, with a slight sting of South-East Asian was utterly familiar.

Harry Rajh, a psychopath from New Carthage stood in front of the two ONI personnel, clutching his stomach as a steady river of blood flowed out of the cracks of his fingers right to the ground. Without pause, SLENDER began shooting Rajh in the left knee, decimating the plating as four shots in quick succession burrowed through and decimated the flesh and bone inside.

_Comeuppance._

As Rajh crumpled to the floor, shambling to suppress the brutal wound, the pilot moved up and smacked him across the visor, nearly shattering it from the force, rattling his head inside the helmet, and plunging the rebel into unconsciousness. With the threat promptly, though temporarily removed, SLENDER grabbed an aid kit from below the pelican's bolted down seats and opened it, pulling out the biofoam canister and slipping it deep into the visceral wound in his leg. The biofoam helped secure and seal the injury, but without the proper medical facilities available on top-of-the-line ships like the _Grand Canyon _and _Stonehenge, _the sheer severity of his wound would eventually claim his life.

As SLENDER set about repairing himself, the pilot of the pelican secured Rajh on a seat opposite the ONI operative, locking his hands and feet to it then placing the combat harness over him. With the insurrectionist fully imprisoned, the pilot removed the man's helmet, revealing a surprisingly soft face that did well to show off his Indian ancestry, yet was now slumped against his chest plate as he floated throughout unconsciousness.

With that done, the pilot grabbed the first aid kit underneath the seat, removed the biofoam, and, without a modicum of finesse, slammed it into the bloody pulp that was once Harry Rajh's knee, making sure that it placated the blood loss, yet at the same time causing more than an iota of pain. SLENDER marvelled at the exchange.

With that done, the pilot stood up and strode quickly back to the cockpit of the pelican, opening the door and sitting down in the pilot's seat, "Keep an eye on the bastard. Make sure he doesn't-"

Another _boom_ rang out; this time muffled by the metallic confines of the pelican. SLENDER looked towards the cockpit of the drop ship, and found that the head of the pilot was splattered across the entirety of one side of the compartment, his body slumped down on the main console, crimson blood vandalising the pristine, holographic blue.

SLENDER was befuddled – that was the sound of a rifle, no doubt, but to have the ability to penetrate military-grade, vacuum-approved glass used on the observation decks of starships? The only infantry weapon that even came close to doing such a thing was his own Anti-Materiel gauss rifle, but even then, it wasn't made to go through the kind of material it just did, for obvious reasons. So, as SLENDER crouched down and took out his rifle, one thought ran through his mind.


End file.
